Fire On Ice

Britt

In the frost-kissed whirl of winter, I weave a tale of lace and promises as Britt, ever the pragmatist, embarks on a new expedition. As she flutters from rack to rack, hunting down the perfect gown, her usual spark sharpens into a laser focus on fabric and fit, rather than the Slammer salary cap. Will the perfect dress seal her future with her handsome hockey hero, or will the chill of doubt frost over their plans? Grab a steaming cup of cocoa, and let"s find out if love can truly tailor the perfect fit.

Playlist: "Paper Rings" by Taylor Swift

I've already been up for an hour when Holden pokes his head through the door into my office.

"What's up, babe? Negotiating another contract?" He's just out of the shower, and he looks so damn good. Freshly scrubbed, with only a towel around his waist, and his V-cut like parallel rainbows leading beneath the edge of the towel to the pot of gold beneath… yum. If I weren't in the middle of something, I'd jump his bones right now.

"Yeah," I say, forcing my eyes back to the screen. "Ours."

Holden readjusts his grip on the towel. "We have a contract?"

My eyes stay glued to the screen. "Not yet. That's why I'm working on it."

"You mean like a…" Holden licks his lips. "A prenup?"

I stop typing long enough to wrinkle my nose. "Ew. No. Marriage. We need to pick a date."

"For the contract?" The poor guy's more lost by the second.

"No, babe, for the wedding. I'm thinking March 30th?"

"This March? As in, later this month?"

I reach for the mug of coffee I made earlier and hold it under my nose, like a Victorian lady taking a hit of her smelling salts. "Yes, darling. This month. I already checked the Slammer's schedule and we can work it in as long as it's local. There's a brief break between the regular season and the playoffs."

Holden rubs one palm over his freshly trimmed jaw. "I'm not saying no, but why so soon?"

I groan and collapse against the back of my office chair. "Oh, God. Are you one of those guys who asks a woman to marry him while hoping for a long engagement? Do you really want me to find a reason to call the whole thing off?"

Holden chuckles. "No. I'm a guy who just got engaged twelve hours ago and thought we might at least get coffee first."

I hold out the mug. "Here, drink mine. I was only sniffing it. And I picked that date because I want to wear an awesome gown. If we wait much longer, I'll have a hard time fitting into a dress, and my ankles will be too swollen to dance. Longer than that, and we'll have to find someone to babysit a small child. Plus, there's the whole issue of names and parental status that can get tricky if we wait."

Holden takes my cold coffee, sniffs it, shrugs, and takes a gulp. "All good points, your honor. Let's get married on March 30th."

"Perfect." I spin back to the computer and click send. "There, it's official. Now, as far as a venue—"

"Hold on, what did you just click? And what do you mean, it's official?"

I flap one hand at the screen. "Oh, I had ‘save the dates' mocked up, and since we agreed on the date, I just sent them to our list."

Holden's eye twitches. "We have a list?"

"Yeah. My people. Your people… it's not rocket science, babe. It's all about merging the people."

"I have people?" He stares into the middle distance. Oh, no, I broke my fiancé. Perhaps I should have gone about this a bit more delicately.

"You have the team." I get up and walk over to him, slipping my arms around his waist. "You have your dad. Given how this town works, I'm guessing the majority of Sorrowville will come to celebrate."

I have more to say, but with every breath, I realize how delicious Holden smells. I sniff his throat.

"You like my new soap?" He kisses the top of my head. "My fiancée bought it."

"Your fiancée has excellent taste." I nibble his collarbone.

Holden sucks in a breath as he steps away from me. "Sorry, Britt, I have to get to work. Maybe we can resume this conversation when I get back?"

I bite my bottom lip and sneak a cheeky peek at the towel around his waist, through which I now have a good view of his thigh, since his rising erection has dislodged its drape. "Sure. I'll just be here… planning our wedding." I take the empty mug from his hand and saunter down the hall, swaying as I do. I happen to know that my ass looks fantastic in these leggings.

Holden whimpers.

I stop at the end of the hall and jiggle, just a little. "What? I thought you were in a rush."

Holden's eyes are fixed on my butt. "I can free up a couple minutes, I think…"

A knock on the door makes us both jump, and Holden pulls his towel to one side to hide the goods. "So help me God, if that's Blink—" He shakes his fist at the door.

"It shouldn't be. I'm not expecting anything." I abandon the mug on the side table and head to the door.

I've barely touched the knob before it bursts open, and Joely, Lynsie, Beth, and Gisele pile through. Joely shrieks when she catches a glimpse of Holden, still standing in the hallway. He immediately bolts for the bedroom.

"Sorry!" Joely wails. "I didn't mean to look at your future husband's penis!"

"Penis?" Lynsie cranes her neck to look into the hall. "Where? Is it big?"

Gisele shushes her. Beth is braced against the couch, laughing so hard that I'm worried she's going to give herself a hernia. Joely is fifteen shades of red, and she keeps muttering apologies.

"Holden!" I bellow. "Don't flash my friends!"

"You can flash me!" Lynsie calls. "I don't mind!"

From the bedroom, Holden's muffled voice is drowned out by Beth's cackling. "You're my friend's little sister for fuck's sake! Totally off limits for flashing anything!"

"Oh my." She straightens up at last and wipes her eyes. "Priceless."

"If you didn't come here to sneak a meat-peek, what are you here for?" I ask them.

Joely covers her eyes. "Meat-peek," she repeats softly. "My God. I'm totally going to use that."

"We're taking you to Duluth!" Lynsie lifts both arms over her head, palms up, and does a couple of squats. "We're gonna raise the roof. And help you find a wedding dress!"

Gisele nods. "There's nothing around here, but I know all the good stores in Duluth, and I thought you could use some insider tips." She raises her eyebrows. "And now that we've seen your email, it seems like we have no time to spare. So let's get going."

"We brought champagne!" Lynsie holds up her Stanley. "Beth's DD, so we got sparkling apple juice for you two. There's a thermos waiting in the car."

If that isn't the most Sorrowville thing I've ever heard, I don't know what is.

* * *

I know exactly what I'm looking for in a dress, which makes it easy to shop. I rattle off my list to an all-business assistant at the first bridal store Gisele chooses.

"No sleeves, simple bodice, floor length but no giant train I'm going to trip over on my way to the altar. The wedding's in a month, and I'm pregnant, so I'd like something that won't make me look like an oversized mushroom. It doesn't have to hide the bump, but I don't want anything too maternal, you know? And it should be white. Yeah, I know that ship has sailed, but I still like the look."

The assistant, whose baby face hides a heart of steel, nods once. This girl knows what's up. "I'll be right back," she says, and sets off through the racks of white tulle, satin, and lace.

Lynsie and Gisele wander off to admire the dresses and discuss their favorites. Beth heads straight toward the raised podium and sits down in one of the chairs. She produces a battered copy of a Beverly Jenkins book from her bag and starts reading.

"I'm surprised she came," I tell Joely as she follows me to the dressing room. "I thought she didn't want me to stay, and she seems pretty anti-wedding."

Joely tucks her hair behind one ear. "Yeah, she's… not big on romantic relationships."

I hum my agreement. "And what about you?"

"Oh, I'm terminally single." Joely laughs. I catch her eyeing one of the nearby dresses. "Guys don't notice me. They all think of me as this innocent little kid, a fixture in the bar, or just one of the guys. I don't even think they know I'm female."

I flick my wrist. "Joely, you're literally stunning. I can guarantee they see you. They just probably think you're off limits like Lynsie is. Do you notice them?"

Joely's chin sinks toward her chest as her shoulders rise defensively toward her ears. "One of them, maybe."

"Hm." I tap my chin in thought. "Is it possible that you've taken special notice of someone whose mother isn't a fan of matrimony?"

Joely lets out a strangled whimper. "Britt—"

"Here you go!" The young woman assigned to help us has returned with an armload of dresses. "I brought three that match what you say you're looking for, and one that's a little different. You can try it last if you don't like the others." She winks.

Game recognizes game, and I nod my appreciation. She hangs them up inside the small but elegant room, where I quickly discover that zippers and buttons are about to be the bane of my existence for the afternoon. Good thing I have her and Joely to help me.

The first dress I try on is exactly what I had in mind, but it gets a lukewarm reception from my little audience. The second one looks great on the hanger but makes me look like the Stay Puft Marshmallow Man. The third one is… fine. But it's the fourth, the one the consultant brought as a ‘recommendation,' that's going to be the winner. I admire myself in the mirror: I'm not in love with the capped sleeves, but the heart-shaped neckline is really flattering, and the lacy back makes my back look sexy and ensures that I still have a shape. Holden's going to lose his mind when he sees me in this.

A vibration in my purse catches my attention. Which reminds me, I should send Tierney a picture of this dress, since she's obviously going to be my maid of honor. I dig my phone out of my purse.

Of course. It's Dad.

Might as well take it.

"Hey, Dad!" I keep my voice lowered but cheerful. "I take it you got the invitation?"

"This is a joke," Dad snaps. "Tell me it's a joke."

"Why would I joke about something like marriage?" I ask.

"To get back at me. I hoped it was a prank to make your point."

"Well, it's not. Holden and I are getting married at the end of the month." I don't mention the baby. I'll tell him in person at the wedding… if he comes. Given how things have been going lately, I'm not sure he will.

"Holden? The hockey player? I know you're stubborn, but surely you wouldn't do this just for the money. The money this small-town loser is surely going to steal. You better have an iron-clad prenup."

"Excuse me?" I swallow a bitter laugh. "You tried to pawn me off on Fitz, but now you think I'm tying the knot just to get back at you? Jesus, Dad, that's the most self-centered thing I've ever heard. This isn't about money. I'm a lawyer. I make plenty of money. I have lots of money saved up, and I've already got new clients here. On top of that, I make a living ensuring everyone gets fair and equitable treatment. I care about justice. Having to wait five extra years or get married… that's what I'm pissed about. And, just so you don't get the wrong idea, I'd marry Holden even if it meant you cut off my trust fund entirely. I love him, Dad."

I hang up, mute my phone, and stuff it back in my purse. I'm so over this drama. Is it too late to rescind my invitation?

When I step out of the dressing room, all four of my companions stare at me with wide eyes. I take a deep breath and smooth down my skirt. They definitely heard my half of the conversation.

The bridal consultant adds a beautiful cathedral-length veil, completing the look.

"So," I ask, spinning in place, "what do we think of the dress?"

Beth dabs at her tear-filled eyes. "It's perfect, Britt. You're beautiful."

The three younger women gush over the gown, and Joely snaps a few photos for me, but Beth's the one whose approval matters most. Dad's opinion of Holden might be subterranean, but Beth's on my side at last.

That matters more than I thought it would.

I'm starting to grasp the profound truth behind the concept of found family. It's the idea that the people we actively choose to bring into our lives can mean infinitely more than those predetermined by mere blood ties.

* * *

Of course, I buy the dress.

We spent a few more hours in Duluth looking for shoes and accessories, and debating the merits of various bridesmaid dresses. I send photos to Tierney so that she can be part of the decision-making process.

It's dark when we return, and I leave my new purchases in Beth's car so that Gisele can stash them at her salon. I want to surprise Holden, and she'll be doing our hair and makeup anyway, so it makes sense to get ready at the salon.

Holden is making dinner in the Tovala when I arrive, and he greets me with a big hug.

"There's my bride-to-be," he says and pulls me into a toe-curling kiss.

I sneak my hands under the hem of his shirt. "What were we talking about earlier? I'm going to need food before I can do anything too strenuous, but maybe you can give me a preview of the main attraction?"

"I think I can swing that." Holden pulls me into another, deeper kiss.

For the second time today, we're interrupted by a knock at the front door. Holden lets his head loll back as he groans. "Seriously? What now?"

"At least you're wearing pants this time."

I want to reach out and soothe away his little pout. "Yeah, but I was just about to take them off…"

I laugh as I wriggle out of his embrace and go to answer the door. Maybe I forgot something in Beth's car. I have been kind of scatterbrained lately.

But it's not Beth on the porch. It's not one of the girls, either.

"Montgomery?" I rub my eyes. Please, please let this be a hallucination.

Alas, my eyes do not deceive me. My brother is standing on the porch with a backpack slung over one shoulder.

"Hey, Britt." Montie rocks back on his heels. "Can I come in?"

"That depends. What are you doing here, so far from good Wi-Fi and your gaming system?"

My brother smiles. "I heard the good news and wanted to meet the lucky man."

I don't trust him. I'm certain that our dad sent him here. Anger slithers its way up my spine to flush my cheeks. I am so fucking sick and tired of being manipulated by the men in my family.

Holden appears at my shoulder. "Hey, man. Nice to meet you. Of course, you can come in. Good timing… the motel just reopened. I can make you something to eat, and we'll go get you checked in for a while."

Montie does that thing where he acts like he's a functioning adult. The two of them immediately start talking about some video game I've never heard of and which game systems are best. On the surface, everything seems fine.

But I don't trust his motives. And after our conversation on the phone, I definitely don't trust Dad's.